


The Hands of Blasphemy

by Dylina



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Fantasizing, Guilt, Guilty Pleasures, M byleth - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Public Masturbation, Risk of being caught, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25687948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylina/pseuds/Dylina
Summary: Seteth pleasures himself in an inappropriate place. This was written for FE3Hwankweek2020 for the guilt prompt.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Seteth
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50
Collections: Wank Week 2020





	The Hands of Blasphemy

What was his doing? The cathedral was a holy place, a sacred place, a divine place. To have a mind full of unclean thoughts was simply unacceptable. If only he could cleanse his mind with soap and water and will the arousal stinging his cock away. He rued his lack of composure, a man of his vast age and life experience should be able to control the burn of desire. Yet the moment Byleth strolled through the gates with his sultry measured strides of quiet confidence and a teasing twitch of his buttock, he had been swallowed up by his lusts. Seteth no longer saw him as a man but as a feast. In the holiest of places he had allowed his eyes to undress him and then gorge on the flesh. His mind had lifted his top and traced the bumps of his abdominal. What a wicked, wanton mind he had! He had imagined growling like a dragon in heat and brushing his teeth against his irresistible stomach. 

"I am sorry my brethren." A guilty apology whilst he was overwhelmed by sin. The statues of the saints appeared to be watching him and passing judgement on his insatiable appetites. Seteth could not help himself. His cock was ignited by feverish lust and there was only one remedy. He could feel his cock stretching the elastic of his underwear as it formed a prominent bulge in his trousers. A hand stroked himself over his clothing and he sure that he saw Indech tut his disapproval. Oh but the stroke felt so good, his groin seemed to rise into his hand the moment contact was made. Once again his mind was full of unsavoury images of Byleth. His eyes had lifted the top higher to expose the subtle ridge of his creamy pecs. A mind lost to lecherous thoughts imagined sinking his teeth into those delicious pecs and leaving lovebites, purple and black. He rubbed a little harder, stifling a groan with a bite of his lip. If he had bitten himself any harder his lip would have bled.

His daughter, the statue of his beloved daughter seemed to cover her eyes in shock and embarrassment. Seteth felt the gnaw of shame in the tension of his muscles and the chambers of his heart. He cursed his dirty imagination, the imagination that depicted Byleth's neck thrown back in pleasure as he kissed hot trails of kisses down his throat. A hand toyed with the waist line of his undergarments, contemplating venturing within. Damn his mind which imagined Byleth's lips which spoke very little but had an amble amount of flavour. He imagined their tongues as needles weaving together erotic patterns. His imagination was so vivid that he could taste the different tea flavours and the flavours of dining distinctly. His hand crept lower, his lips mumbled apologies and his eyes closed so that he could not see the disgust in the eyes of the saints. 

With his eyes closed he could not see but he could feel the burn of their disapproving looks. He could feel Macuil, shaking his head and shooting daggers from his eyes into his back. Still that did not stop him from stroking the soaking head of his cock. With the tips of his fingers he wrote of his debauchery. He could feel ragged breaths try to escape the mouth he had sealed shut. He could not risk opening his mouth. He could not risk anyone overhearing him pleasuring himself. What would the congregation thinks of him if they caught him red handed with hands in private places?

Every sound was increased in volume by paranoid ears. Distance footsteps sounded dangerously near and incomprehensible mumbling of distance conversations sounded dreadfully close. The danger of being caught did not stop him, rather it just added to the thrill. His heart would stop at every sound and his covk would throb as well. Every hair would stand to attention and the fear would grip his stomach, but his cock would cry proceed.

Byleth had gotten under his skin, a rash that no amount of scratching would ease. His mind, his heart and his groin yearned, pined and longed for every piece of him. They yearned to rest hands on proud shoulders, to massage them to putty. They pined for his ears to whisper raunchy suggestions into. They longed for his hair to brush his fingers through. His hand became bolder as the desire scorched harder, taking full hold of his shaft and twisting and pulling like a corkscrew as he pumped pure sexual adrenaline. 

It felt good, achingly good, the kind of ache that dominated the entire focus and energy. He twisted and pulled in variations of friction and speed until he found the right combination to hit the spot. To spit was unthinkable in such a holy building but he needed moisture to keep the smoothness of his hand movements. He glanced towards the archway to see heavenly light pouring into the main body of the cathedral. No one was present yet he still hesitated before he spat upon the shaft. 

Once again Byleth visited his imagination as he rubbed his thumb over the sensitive bud and his fingers operated the shaft. He fantasized about giving the iron clad buttocks a firm spank. They imagined sound of hand upon flesh increased the intensity of the throbbing, tingling pleasure fuelling his slimy, spittal and precum sullied cock. Another sound was imagined by his ears, the sound of leather upon skin. Seteth groaned louder than intended in his longing to spank Byleth with a leather paddle. To see a slight redness on his skin and hear his grunts of painful pleasure was the stuff of filthy dreams. 

On the sacred ground where the goddess once tread, in the sacred building she once found shelter, he was ascending to his climax rapidly and unstoppable. He threw his head up and gazed to the sky to beg for forgiveness. He hunched over and gazed at the ground and promised to repent for tarnishing the cathedral. His mind had begun to focus on penetration, his cock buried deep inside Byleth. Byleth had surrendered to him in the position of a V. His plump thighs and slender calves forked open, inviting him within. Seteth could depict the grimaced and flustered redness on the face of Byleth as he drove himself inside with hard, slow thrusts. In his ears were the imagined words of "no one has ever been so deep" and "I feel stuffed." 

His hands worked faster and harder as the pressure built within. Around his bloodstream circulated electric arousal and his pores cried with the steam of his heat. The faces he pulled he had no doubt were unsightly, the distorted, gaping and wrinkled up expressions of his cum face. He was a dragon whom panted like a bitch in season. In his mind he was ploughing into Byleth in short, sharp bursts, his balls spanking his buttocks. He tried to swallowed his moans, he tried so hard but they just exploded from his mouth in frightfully loud songs. He swore his eyeballs had rotated full circle in their sockets. He was near, so very close, he could feel the apex waiting with agonising impatience in his cock. His face creased with effort as he pumped breaths laboriously from his lungs. The rise and rise and rise, it made him gasp and grind his hips. He could feel his buttocks squeezing and tightening read to burst and his stomach was a noose of painful anticipation. 

Relief poured upon him like blessed rain, cooling and soothing rain. Finally he could breathe, finally his heart could beat normally. The expression on his face could be painted with duty and responsibility again. There was only one problem, one deviance to hide from view. He had cum in his underwear and it had seeped right through . He placed his hands together in prayer and begged for forgiveness again. Then he discreetly removed himself to go and change his clothing.


End file.
